Kingdom Hearts: The End of Tomorrow
by shirozora
Summary: War: romantic, glorious, mythmaker, creator of legends. A living hell. In the fifth year of the last war, the Heartless stir a menace in an unknown world. How will that change the tides of war? Sequel to The Secrets of Memories. DISCONTINUED
1. Yuna's Thoughts

**Author's Note:** I'm pretty sure there are many of you who click on the link to this story and think: _What the hell is this? I don't even know where to begin!_ Why is it, do you ask? My dear reader, this is the sequel to my epic fanfiction, **_Kingdom Hearts: The Secrets of Memories_**. I encourage you to try and read that fanfiction first or, if you find yourself intimidated by the number of chapters you must read, visit the story's FAQs site. The link may be found on my Bio page after some scrolling but my beta reader, Lena-Jade, and I have only several summaries up. I suggest you read what is available and go from there. For those of you who have been waiting oh so eagerly, here is the sequel to _The Secrets of Memories_. 

**Help and Thanks:** Lena-Jade, who is the beta reader for this story and the one who basically runs the FAQs site because I, being lazy and stupid, don't know how to run a website. Oops.

**Copyrights:** All characters and settings belong to Square-Enix and Disney. Motsu is based off of a real Motsu, who is part of an amazing Japanese music group called m.o.v.e. Rupert, a surprise OC, is mine, of course. The storyline is also mine.

**Warnings:** The sequel, being much more mature than its predecessor, is more violent and explicit. You have been warned. This chapter is mild but it may very well be the only mild chapter in the whole story.

I repeat, you have been warned.

**Kingdom Hearts: The End of Tomorrow**  
**Prologue: Yuna's Thoughts **

_How long as it been, Lenne? Five years?_

' _Maybe. You think I want to remember, Yuna? The memories are still painful for me, because time isn't static, a simple line, for me. Memories come and go, from the old days to my existence around you. That one night, when the magic in the dressphere started reacting to the emotions within us, I don't want to remember. It's still painful for me.' _

_I know. Sometimes I still dream about it. _

Yuna sighed, fingered the beads attached to the blue strand of hair. She then stood up, studied herself in the tall mirror one last time, and made minor adjustments to her Songstress dress.

" Stage fright. I always get it," she murmured aloud.

' _You're one to talk. You haven't performed as many times as I have. Remember, I was a professional…and you can imagine how many faces I had to see, how many raucous fans I had to endure, while I went around singing to make a living.'_

_Yeah, and I'm the one who destroyed Sin forever. People still stop me on the streets, addressing me as " Lady Yuna". Only problem is, half the time they nearly get run through with those bayonets Slate created. Being a celebrity comes with a bunch of bodyguards, I guess._

' _Celebrity? You're Yuna, daughter of Braska, and one of the top members of the damn Order. To Yevon and hell if you didn't go around with bodyguards!'_

_I can fight, you know. I can sing people to sleep._

' _Oh ha, ha, very funny. Abuse my powers, why don't you?'_

_I was only joking-_

" Lady Yuna?" Someone was knocking on the door inside her room.

Yuna smiled with secret triumph as she tweaked her black skirt one last time, then turned around. " I'm coming. Is it almost time?"

" Five minutes to show time," Rupert called out on the other side. Cid's hired hand had become a huge asset to the workings within the Order; he was invaluable for his photographic memory, and the huge amount of respect he poured onto people. It was definitely not something he learned from good ol' Cid Highwind. " 5G Fire is almost ready, too. You might want to go over last-minute adjustments with them, just to make sure the performance goes smoothly!"

" Thanks, Rupert!" Yuna called out. Once she heard the heavy footsteps stride away, she reached for the gilt door knob. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and plunged into backstage mayhem.

People were still rushing about, making last-minute preparations for the concert. The blitzball stadium, which was currently functioning as a concert stadium, was reported as bustling with people and some of the workers kept making calls for more security. Others were discussing the extra screens, the lighting, the fire – the fire!

" Look, I don't care if you think concerts aren't worth it, just send in some more guards, dammit!" Yuna's uncle Cid shouted into what looked like a walkie-talkie. " I know there's more people than usual because of Lady Yuna but goddammit, there's Savvy out there – oh good, you get it now? Fine, send one of the division commanders over, then! He'll sort things out, I'm betting! She's not available? Well do you ever fucking listen, you great asshole! I said 'send _one_ of the division commanders over', so send him over if she's busy doing some reconnaissance! So what! Tell Commander before you inform him! He won't kill you for following _my_ orders! You got that? Good – Buddy, no, take it this way…"

_Brilliant, His Majesty's attending the concert! This is so embarrassing…_

" Yo, yo, yo, wazzup, Lady Yuna!" someone crowed from across the backstage. Half the crew froze in shock.

' _Newbies. It's only Motsu.'_

_Oh shut up, Lenne. That's not nice._

' _Hey, when you've dealt with people like them for a while, you start acting that way, too.'_

_Yeah, thanks for the tip-off._

" Motsu, how's the stage fright?" Yuna asked cheerfully, striding towards the tall man with the blue spiked hair.

" What stage fright? I got no stage fright! I'm so ready to get out there and kick ass!" Motsu exclaimed. " But Yuna, you sure you want to perform that song first? I mean, compared to the other songs we'd be performing, it's a bit soft-"

" Hey, I like this song, okay? I wrote it, composed it with the help of some others, namely Lenne, and practiced it for ages! I'm releasing the tracks at the end of the year, too. The other version I have ready is so sad. But you can blame that on Lenne. She likes sad songs."

Motsu laughed. " Oh I just can't to hear what you've got ready to fire!"

" Which reminds me; just _what_ are you planning to do with the fire?"

" Oh….well, it has nothing to do with your performance. Cid's got something planned for you, involving pretty rainbows and all that shiznit. 5G Fire's gonna live up to its name, you gonna see!"

Yuna laughed. " Oh I just can't wait. Where's the other half of 5G Fire, though? Where'd she go?"

" Uh…" Motsu scratched his head and laughed nervously. " Well…I told her to hurry up because we don't got less than five minutes left-I mean, we have less than five minutes left before you start your stuff. The last thing she did was cuss me out."

Yuna – and Lenne in the back of her mind – raised an eyebrow at this. " So Motsu the Friendmaker stirs up a hornet's nest in our good friend Lorien. Wise move, my friend, very wise."

" I know, I know," Motsu sighed and rolled his eyes. Then he turned his head and he smiled. " Hey, Lorien!"

Striding towards them was a tall, lithe young woman. Her red hair was pulled back tightly in a ponytail and she somehow slicked back her bangs. She was wearing ultraviolet-colored shades; cold blue eyes glared out of them. Lorien was wearing a long sleeveless white jacket with a large collar; underneath she wore a sleeveless white shirt with knots in the front, kind of like a tunic…or a bodice. Either one would be fine. She was wearing tight white pants, white boots, and wore a white bracelet on her left wrist.

She perfectly contrasted the dark clothes Motsu was wearing. They were total opposites.

" All white today, Lorien?" Yuna smiled.

" I like to stand out. Hi, Yuna."

The older songstress nodded. " I hear you were throwing a tantrum again."

Lorien scowled. " I did no such thing."

She was openly glaring at Motsu, though, who seemed to shrink away. Yuna and Lenne watched, amused. Ever since that infamous audition, when Motsu forced Lorien to wear something truly bizarre, Lorien had total control over Motsu…well, almost total control. He was the one writing the lyrics but for the most part he became very timid when Lorien was around. But that was only when she was in a less-than-cheerful mood.

" So…your girl going to watch us today, Motsu?" Lorien asked casually, tugging at her shades.

" Oh yeah," the man grinned. " Yesterday she showed me her collection of tickets. Very nice, I hafta tell you that!"

Yuna laughed. " Wow, talk about devoted!"

" Hey, you three!" Rupert yelled from somewhere in the chaos of the setup crew. " You're on stage in a minute, Yuna! C'mon!"

" Coming!" Yuna called out. She then turned to Motsu and Lorien, the 5G Fire. They were all sharing that smile, the kind reserved only for superstar rock stars. Yuna and Lorien also had something else – status.

And that got their friends some very good seats.

" He's watching?" Lorien smirked at Yuna.

" Totally. Just as devoted as Motsu's girl," Yuna said, though with a slight blush.

" Are…we…ready?" Motsu asked slyly. There was a sense of conspiracy between them.

" Let's kick some ass."

**Author's Endnote:** Well, I hope that was a good prologue part 1. The only dibs I can give on the next chapter are that it will feature more OCs, including the one central to this story. Please review and tell me what you think. I'll appreciate it more if you have some suggestions for this story, as long as it doesn't spoil Kingdom Hearts II or Kingdom Hearts III Yes, I am _very_ aware of the secret movie. In any case, boom baby!


	2. King's Hunter

**Author's Note:** Happiness! Prologue Part 2 is finally up! Read and weep! But if you are squeamish of violent language and violent imagery, then I have just warned you. 

**Thank You:** Lena-Jade, my awesome beta reader! And of course, all you readers. Duh.

**Copyrights: **All characters and settings belong to Square-Enix and Disney. Unfortunately, most of the characters that will appear, along with a setting, are of my creation and my creation alone. The storyline is mine, no matter how far along it is in infancy.

**Warnings:** Uh…blood and gore. And please, if you want to flame, spare yourself and don't even bother reading my story. In fact, don't even think about reading my stories at all. Yes, you know who you are. If you can't show some respect, don't even think about it. Sorry but I had to get it out.

**The End of Tomorrow**  
**Prologue: King's Hunter**

The bartender slowly stopped wiping at the invisible stain on the counter to eye the others in the tavern. Try as hard as he might, he couldn't possibly block out the drunken rants set loose by an exotic standout in the room—a silver-haired, olive-skinned man wearing an assortment of strange blue clothes. The man was sitting awkwardly in his seat, guzzling the tavern's home brew and demanding more with a wave of the pewter tankard.

" More, you rutting sonofabitch! I've got the Queen bitch's money to pay, so hurry your ass up and gimme another glass!"

The bartender winced as he forced himself to inch towards the man. " Wonder how you've a queen's money, sir," remarked the middle-aged man with an obnoxiously bulbous nose and a graying goatee nervously as he carefully eased the tankard of the man's hands and filled it up at the beer barrel behind him. He handed the foaming tankard back to the man, who yanked it away and sloshed golden liquid all over the counter.

" I'm her special messenger!" he hollered importantly as he downed the brew. Between ravenous sips, he continued his drunken ranting, "Carrying messages from her to the King of Disney, all the way in that damn city…Luca!" The man burped ungraciously. "…I'm expected at the Ruins in a few hours…better…get a move on…if I don't get the message to the city on time, that fucker's gonna burn my ass to bits…"

" Language, sir," the bartender breathed into his goatee as the man practically jumped off his seat and sent the wooden chair flying. The other men in the room watched the man as he slowly but surely staggered his way towards the door. Outside, one could see snow flying everywhere, but the man was bare-shouldered; he left his cloak on the seat next to him and nobody bothered to remind him. Great was their wish to banish him from the tavern.

The man slammed into the wall right next to the door, swore in an unfamiliar tongue, and staggered out into the fiery winter storm. Once he was gone, a collective sigh arose as men visibly relaxed and began to talk and drink with more ease. They had many unusual people go through this town, the majority being silver-haired and olive-skinned like he, but that man had a serious problem when it came to drink. What they were all glad about was that they never saw the same foreigner more than once.

" Language, my ass!" the bartender muttered as he reached over and wiped away the pool of liquor where the man had spilled his drink. He glared angrily at the door, the whipping winds, and the flying snow, then began taking in orders and handing out tankards and dishes of simple fare again.

But the bartender was not completely at ease. As he ladled some thick beef stew into a wooden bowl, he peeked over his shoulder at the fireplace, a great work of rough-hewn stone and mortar that roared cheerfully of fire and heat. Men sat around it, chatting, drinking, and eating, but there was that one strange fellow in the corner. He had come in the night before, this stranger who kept his face hidden from the world. He sat in the corner, with only another chair and the table to keep him company. He kept his back to the other men and the fireplace, and minded his own business for as long as the bartender could remember.

The man was tall and lean, though most of his features were easily obscured in the worn and muddy dark cloak he wore. The hood was large and nothing could be seen underneath the cowl, though sometimes the bartender caught a glimpse of a metallic shimmer in the play of firelight. The man demanded nothing, only asked, in a few simple words, for a plate of bread and cheese and mulled wine. That was all he had said since last evening.

The bartender liked people who interacted with others and were boisterous in calling him up to place an order. People who generally kept to themselves were of the suspicious sort. They were either criminals on the run or bizarre outcasts. However, the bartender was unable to place a finger on where the man belonged. All he knew was that this man was a wanderer and a warrior; he moved with grace and swiftness, as well. And the arm that sometimes reached out from under the cloak to take hold of the tankard of wine had the lean, taut muscles of a swordsman.

Perhaps a military fugitive from another world…or simply a mercenary on the road, the bartender guessed, though he really couldn't figure it out. Truth be told, he'd rather not figure things out at all. He didn't trust this lonely man and he fought hard to hide it. There was something about the stranger that the bartender sensed, something that told him to stay away and not to pry.

Ignorance was bliss.

Then suddenly the stranger stood up. He was tall, too, towering over all the men in the tavern. He quickly headed towards the bartender, who panicked briefly. What did he want?

There was a swift movement from under the cloak and three gold coins clattered onto the counter. The bartender stared as the coins spun around in all their yellowish glory and finally fell on their faces with a sharp, ringing noise. He slowly reached out and picked one up. It was large, round, and heavy. On one side were two crossed swords; the other held a skull.

While he kept an eye on the stranger, he slowly bit the coin. His teeth sank into the soft metal and the bartender knew this was real gold. He stared up at the stranger, astonished. All he got in return was the same metallic shimmer.

"Keep the change."

Then the man turned around and strode towards the door. The bartender stared after him, trying to hold the voice to memory. He couldn't; it slid away from him, leaving him with only a sense with what the man had just said.

As the man pushed open the door and stepped out into the frigid night, the bartender whispered a question.

"Who are you?"

""

" Who are you?"

He smiled bitterly as the question echoed throughout every corner and rounded turn in his mind. His hand lingered on the door for a little longer, then the door swung away and closed behind him. He looked behind briefly at the roaring yellowish light glowing from the windows of the inn, then tugged the top of the cowl over his head more securely and strode away from shelter, into the fury of the winter night.

_Who am I? I am nobody. I am no one. I don't exist. I roam and I search, seeking, never finding. I am a battleground of all things and of nothing. I am the vengeance seeking to destroy the evil that took from me all that I love. I am the nameless shadow in the darkness of your shelters, appearing only to destroy, and never more than the evil amongst you. That is who I am and that is who I'll ever be._

He stopped briefly at what looked like the outskirts of the town and looked up and down the clumpy dirty road. Except for some strange ruts in the brownish snow, there were no traces of other life forms. He was alone.

The sudden howling gale had vanished and the snow ceased to fall. The rooftops of the buildings were glistening with heavy layers of pure white snow. The village looked so clean and pure as the full moon peaked through the dark storm clouds and streaks of silver light pierced the darkness. And why shouldn't it? The town deserved it; it was he, after all, who scourged this place of the darkness that had been running rampant through this world in the night.

_Glad there's no Heartless tonight; I can't afford any more delays!_

He turned and followed the ruts through the deep snow. After plowing through the chill for a few minutes, he began to jog. In weather like this, even a dark coat like his wouldn't keep anyone warm for long.

"Too much to drink, eh?" he muttered to himself as he noted how the tracks vanished and reappeared at various intervals. The messenger had been seen arriving astride a serpentine gray machine and it was easy for him to guess that the tracks were made by the craft. And the man must've been seriously drunk; the tracks told him the man barely had any control over his vehicle.

He was in luck. If anything, the man would never get far enough to outrun him. Whoever was waiting for him would never find him.

A sadistic white grin flashed in the dark night as he kept running through the snow, practically skimming over the packed surface as white hills rose up all around him and glistened in the moonlight with a million diamonds. Dark pine trees defiantly kept themselves above the snow and loomed over him as he bolted through clusters in following the staggering trail.

"Fuck! Move, you stupid horse!"

The voice was uneven and stuttering as it echoed through the night. The man slowed down momentarily, then sped up as the last echoes of it faded from his ears. To mistake some snake-like machine for a horse said something about the mental state of this messenger.

He made his way down the hill and turned around the bend of another hill. There was the messenger himself, trying to pull his machine out of thick sludge. Its front end was lodged in the cold, sticky mixture of snow and earth, and the hot engine was melting more ice down, making a quagmire of mud. The silver-haired messenger was tugging at its nose and was shouting various words in an unfamiliar language.

He grinned. This was way too easy.

The man suddenly stiffened, then whirled around, his dazed eyes looking about frantically. "Who the fuck's out there? C'mon, show yourself! I demand that you show yourself!"

"Relax," he answered with an all-knowing smile as he came nearer. "There's nobody but me."

"Stay back! I am the messenger of Queen Kidagakash of Atlantis! I am under her protection! Lay an unwelcome hand on me and you will die!"

He raised an eye at this statement. Queen Kidagakash?

Something stirred deep inside him but he left alone the ruffling and concentrated on the messenger. The refocusing came too late; suddenly he heard the engine of the machine roar and looked up to see the man on top of it, maneuvering it out of the slush and down the snowy road.

He smiled. It was too late for the messenger. Even the machine couldn't save him now.

Calmly, he raised a hand and opened it so the palm of it was facing the back of the messenger. He didn't give much thought to it, no longer needed to give an effort, but still took the time to study his hand, casually studying the dirty white cloth wrapped tightly around the black leather cloves with torn fingers. He still couldn't understand the _power_ of it but he was glad of its many uses. Even if it meant making an enemy of a queen.

"You…are not going anywhere."

He braced himself from the kickback as something fiery formed on the palm of his hand. Then he felt his boots jolt through the snow as golden light erupted from his hand, lancing the snowy night with its hot glow. It roared at his hand, then streaked at the disappearing figure, hitting the man in the back. With an anguished cry, the man toppled from the machine and the silver thing went careening into the snow nose-first.

He smiled slightly as he slowly lowered his hand. He moved it slightly, felt the heat dissipating quickly in the cold, then lazily meandered his way towards the struggling dark figure in the snow. His eyes picked up the blushing red stain in the white snow as he got closer. The snow was melting in the presence of the blood and steam was rising in the air.

Fresh kill.

No, not yet. The man was still alive. But just alive. He drew nearer, avoiding the melting reddish slush and stood over the convulsing form of the olive-skinned man. He studied the blood blossoming from the lower abdomen; the shot had gone clean through. The man was gasping for breath, his mouth flecked with blood.

"You…son…ofa…bitch!" he gasped. Deep in his throat was a gargling sound as his body tried to take in more air. "You…what the hell….do you want…with me? What do you want?"

"What you can never give me," he said coldly. "But it won't be _you_ who will be giving it to me. It'll be the others who will hear from me."

"You…you won't get away…with this," the messenger sputtered, then choked on his blood. "The king will…hear of this…and when he does—"

"Oh he'll hear from this alright. Just not what he's probably expecting,"

"What—"

Silver light flashed through the night and the beginning of a scream cut off, muffled by snow.

""

_Council of War 387  
__Luca, Spira  
__King Mickey Disney_

_Hollow Bastion around the clock again. Cid #1 asking for more hands._

_Word from A. Greece. Adm. Arkantos has agreed to join the war._

_Rastashi will inform you of an unknown assault on one of the outer worlds. _

_Begin dispersing the Lions; outer worlds around the clock now._

_Queen Kidagakash of Atlantis  
__Sparta, A. Greece  
__O.O.E. 5421, January 14_

""

"What do you mean I can't get in?" he snapped furiously, glaring at the three guards who blocked his way. He attempted to intimidate them with a stare-down but he then realized that nothing could be seen under the hood he refused to remove from his head. That made him more pissed off than ever.

It had not taken long for him to find out where the mouse king was. The message had directed him to Spira, center of the Order of the Hearts and Souls. There he dodged around people, watching from the shadows, and wandering openly through the scattered villages and towns. He listened and learned and discovered that a huge concert was about to take place at a stadium in the city of Luca, where the headquarters of the Order were said to be located. Nobody knew where the headquarters actually were – for safety purposes, obviously – but where the headquarters were, the king would be. And he had to see the king.

It took him half a week to travel from the remote village he had staked out, after destroying several Nobodies that had wandered in and dodging bullets fired at him by angry locals who were as frightened of him as they were of the Nobodies. He had taken the messenger's machine into the city through the huge gates, although he grew worried when the guards kept eyeing the serpentine machine with suspicion. It grew worse when he realized he couldn't just disappear into Luca; the city was filled with _people_. There had never been such a concentration of people. The most people he had ever seen in one place was at the Asoka Markets back home. And the smells, the stink of the city, was just as overwhelming. High buildings towered over him, casting shadows that made him nervous. And the people, all kinds of people, were wandering the streets. He did notice, however, that several squads of heavily armored men and women were weaving through the crowds in a disorderly fashion. They were on guard for something. For what?

Listening to the people around him as he made his way through the crowds in search of a hideaway he realized that the concert that was taking place in Luca was in some huge _blitzball_ stadium. And they said the king would be there.

Which was why he was now standing in front of the beautiful building and its shimmering dome. He had obviously come too late; there were no crowds standing around, no one entering the building. Guards were stationed around the entrances, though. Getting to the king wasn't as easy as he thought it would be.

"Move it, you," the buffest of the three snapped, jabbing at him with his machine gun. He was a bulky man with a jaw of steel. "You're too late; wait for the next concert."

"No," he snapped. "I want to see the king, if only for a moment. I'm not going to stay."

"It does not matter," spoke the tall guard. He was lankier than the others but his voice held an edge that the other two lacked. _This one_, he thought, _the tall one with strands of dirty blond hair jutting out from under the helmet, must be in charge_. His stance, his straight back and his looming height, spoke much. "None may see the king lest they are to meet him on official business. And they are only to be let in if it is an emergency. Since your business with him is neither immediate nor official, you may not meet him."

"What, isn't he my king, too?" he said, growing angrier. A slow-burning fire in his mind was flickering hungrily, reaching for the taints of rage. "Shouldn't I be able to…how shall I say it…speak to him of my 'grievances'? Are you being elitist here or just plain knuckleheads?"

His frustration was increased tenfold when the shortest of the three men laughed. He knew that man was pushing it.

"He's one of them damn reform-like people, I bet," the shorter man was saying. "But they are all fools. If it weren't for their 'elitist' king, Spira would have been long gone to the Organization, that damn society of evil! Don't know why they won't let him alone to his business—"

"Just let me in," he snapped, speaking each word as its own sentence. "It won't take long. Escort me even…especially if you knew the things I knew…"

"Oh, trying to get all high and mighty now, eh?" the heavyset guard snorted. He jabbed at him again with the machine gun but it wasn't a gentle push; the shove nearly forced him back. "Go on, get! We are not budging and we are not letting anyone in! Get out of here, you twit! We don't need the likes of you common folk—"

The lanky guard moved to intervene but he was onto the man immediately.

"_Excuse_ me?" he hissed. The fire roared as his anger spilled into his mind. "Common folk? I came here asking why the king failed to protect his people, all the people, and you're telling me to scram because I'm _common_? You've spoken the wrong things to the wrong person at the wrong time…and you're going to pay."

"Oh yeah?" the short man asked, leveling his weapon. "You and what army, eh? You're just some baloney lunatic with some business that we don't know and we don't care—"

"You do not deserve to live. So be it!"

With the apocalyptic declaration, he crossed his arms across his chest, then flung them back behind him. In the process, gold and silver light exploded; the light actually had sound. Once the initial flash was gone, he saw, to his great satisfaction, the end result.

The three guards crumbled to the floor. The brawny soldier had been killed immediately; blood was flooding all over his face from the jagged hole in the helmet; the blast had punched a hole into the helmet with such intensity the metal pieces tore into the man's head and killed him. The short guard, the stocky man who had taunted him about his 'reformist mind', was choking, gargling on his own blood. His neck was torn and the windpipe was hissing; blood bubbled all over him. The tallest one, the lanky commander, was trying to crawl away from him. The handicap became obvious; the man was missing his left foot. It was all blown out and as the soldier pulled away, he left behind a dark trail of blood.

He smiled. It was time for them to feel his pain. Just like the Heartless. Just like the Nobodies. Just like the city folk, townspeople, and villagers who chased him out of their homes for annihilating the evil lurking in the shadows. They could ostracize him all they want and he would pay back tenfold.

Starting now. Starting with what the Order had failed to do. Starting with the vengeance that came one night many moons ago, when _they_ came without warning—

"Good day."

He calmly walked around the dead soldier and the dying man and headed into the large, arched doorway into the blitzball stadium. He ignored the limbless man, the one crawling towards a strange device on the wall. He didn't bother.

''

The lanky man grit his teeth until he could hear the high, screeching sound in his ears. His left leg was literally on fire; he wanted to curl his toes to release the pain but they were not there. The intruder had blasted them all off!

He pulled up against the wall, his arms shaking with the pain. Sweat beaded and dribbled down his face, soaking him up and making the helmet almost unbearable. The man pulled off the helmet, winced again and held back a howl of pain at his left leg, and tossed the helmet aside. He shook his head, felt the sweat spraying off his dirty blond hair, and reached over for the walkie-talkie safely hidden in a box blended into the designs of the renovated blitzball stadium.

"Commander, Commander, this is L182, this is L182—_shit_—we have an emergency here. Code Red; we have a trespasser. I repeat, we have a trespasser—_fuck_! Commander…can you read me? Over,"

The small, round green walkie-talkie hissed and crackled. "L182, this is Commander. What the fuck happened!"

"Some bastard tried to get into the stadium. Said something about seeing the king—"

"What happened? Stats, L182, give me stats!"

L182 swallowed away the pain, then spoke, his voice shaking. "B670 and S326 are both down, Commander. S326 got his brains all blown out and B670's drowning in his own blood; his windpipe's gone. And the fucker's…blasted my foot off…"

"L182, I'll contact the Mage Unit immediately—"

"Commander," L182 knew he had to get this out, knew his superior needed to know what he would be dealing with. "Commander, I've never seen anyone like this man. He's…he's different."

"What do you mean, different? Like the So—Organization?"

"Commander, he's got…powers. I don't know how to explain it but he's got the most unusual powers I've ever seen in anyone. He's dangerous. He took all three of us out in seconds. I think—"

"Target suggestion is king?"

In the background L182 thought he heard a roar. The multitude of voices.

"He told us he wanted to see the king about something—"

"L182, send in five units of the Lion's Guard to cover all entrances and exits. And get the Mages over here; the damn stadium's squat in the middle of the port and it won't do for city morale if a bunch of people walk in on you and the other two. I'll contact Storm. Leave the King's Guard to me."

"Yessir—"

"And L182? Get Leah9 and her units here, too. Pull her out of her assignment. This is Code Red and needs to be dealt like its Code Red, even if it's in the middle of a concert. Read me?"

"Yessir, Commander sir!"

"Commander over and out,"

The noise and static of the walkie-talkie went dead as L182 shut it off. The mutilated man grinned, a ghastly expression made in the likeness of macabre horror with his paling face, beads of sweat, and specks of his solders' blood. He leaned back against the wall and took several deep breaths. Slowly, ever so slowly, he built up walls, thick walls in his mind, and the pain began to die. It was a form of training every soldier went through if they were to serve the Order; the training master, the satyr Philoctetes of Ancient Greece, drilled it until every man and woman had nearly dropped dead. Then L182 began fiddling with the dials on the walkie-talkie again, until he neared the frequency needed to contact the Order Headquarters.

"Nobody messes with the Order. Nobody messes with the Lion's Guard. Nobody messes with the King's Guard…ever…"

**Author's Endnote:** Opinions? Suggestions? Some of your suggestions I have already taken into consideration, although some I have thrown out as "Hell no." I would love your thoughts on this chapter, since it obviously gives you a hint into the complexities of the sequel to _**The Secrets of Memories**._ Cheers!


	3. The Concert Passion

**Author's Note:** Of all the days in the week it had to be this week and this day. This is the very last update for any story I have written for the next several weeks or at least until all the A.P. and SAT II exams have been done and over with. And if I'm terribly unlucky I'll have my laptop confiscated because I haven't brought my grades back up. I'm exhausted here, and I'm really sorry but I think I do have to take a breather and start focusing on my academics. The one time you really, REALLY want to bomb the school. 

On the other hand, this is a very interesting chapter. I'm the kind of person who has movies playing in her head and tries to convey those visual imagery to others through writing, so bear with me and this strange chapter, okay? And yeah, I hate 'Sanctuary'. My ears bleed. I'm so disappointed in Kingdom Hearts II now. Sue me for the heresy. I dare you.

**Thanks:** I'd like to thank Lena-Jade for putting so much time and effort into editing this story. And my mom's getting pissed. Shit.

**Copyrights:** All characters and settings belong to Square-Enix and Disney except for certain OCs I will not mention because you'll find out about them in a few months. The storyline is mine. 'Passion' is by Utada Hikaru, and it is the opening version.

**Warnings:** There's a ton of cursing near the end. Trying to keep it real here; when people get mad, they curse. Don't deny it.

**The Last Dream**  
**Chapter 1: The Concert - Passion**

Once, a very long time ago, Yuna performed the song, "REAL emotion" in the blitzball stadium. But she wasn't even the one singing it. Things were a bit confusing back then, but all controversy was set aside when Yuna began her unforgettable 'A Thousand Words'. To many, it was an incredible concert. To others, it was something so profoundly life-changing that they had never been the same again.

Once, a very long time ago, Yuna thought life on Besaid Island was enough; that wondering and dreaming about Tidus was enough. But her journey began when Rikku showed her a sphere. That journey became a part of a greater journey that was more wondrous, honorable, and terrible than her personal journey as a High Summoner.

"Are you ready?" Buddy asked calmly as he made a last few adjustments to the settings of the stage. "You think you can control that sphere of yours?"

He was referring to her Songstress dressphere, which was prone to shocking people with visuals. 'A Thousand Words' began as a simple song of hope through the pain and tears, but her clothes started doing _something_. That _something_ was Lenne, and Shuyin, and the lost dreams of Spira, and the death of a hero, and the declaration of doom.

Would the sphere do something again?

'_Let us hope not,'_ Lenne whispered as they heard the crowd roar from backstage.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Yuna said softly. "Let it begin."

She took a step forward just as Rupert yelled something into the telephone he was answering.

"What? What code? Are you insane?"

_Breathe, Yuna. In and out, in and out. Become one with yourself. Let it begin._

Yuna stepped out onto the stage.

The world was dark. She couldn't see much at all except for the eerily glowing blue translucent platform she was standing on. Underneath it, she could see the huge machine with many arms and drums. Smaller platforms soared around her as it carried guitarists, drummers, and others who played the various musical instruments. Except for the one who was testing the strings, everyone was ready.

Yuna could hear voices shouting at each other, arguing from backstage. The voices belonged to Cid and Rupert, who were arguing about a code.

"The show has to start," interrupted Buddy.

'_A show? This is no show. This is a performance.'_

_Performance or no, who knows what would happen if the dressphere starts reacting again. _Bowing her head, Yuna took several deep breaths, thrust her head up and down, and stretched her arms.

An acoustic melody began to play as her Songstress Dressphere began to glow.

'_It's happening again,'_ Lenne whispered in her mind. _'But the show goes on.'_

People applauded, but began to mutter and gasp as the light from the circular platform and her clothes intensified, blinding everyone in the stadium.

'_Now'._

And Lenne stepped out of Yuna and to the side, her clothes giving off hot light as well. Clasping hands, they closed their eyes and waited.

_Let it begin._

""

**_A slender red-haired girl sits on the sand in the beach, piecing a star-shaped charm together from seashells washed up along the shore…_**

**_From a small island, three young teenagers stare off into the sunset, sharing their dreams, hopes, and expectations of the worlds that lay beyond their own…_**

'_I need more passion than you know.'_

_**High ivory white doors with stained window panes slowly close in the darkness…**_

**_And the one who wanted to discover other world left alone on a starless night. The red-haired girl watches as white balls of light float down all around her, and from a source far out into the ocean, stars streak across the empty black sky…_**

_Omoidaseba haruka haruka  
__Mirai wa ('I need more passion than you know') doko made mo kagayaiteta  
__Kireina aozora no shita de  
__Bokura wa ('I need ore passion than you know') sukoshi dake obeite ita_

(When I remember far, far back  
The future was shining endlessly.  
Below the pretty blue sky,  
We were only slightly afraid.)

**_Against the harsh, eerie, surreal sky a castle looms ahead. Three voyagers approach from an endless road: a wizard, a knight, and a boy with wild brown hair…_**

**_Sitting alone, in a white room, a pale blonde girl weaves a tapestry of disorder and confusion, endlessly drawing visions and dreams and nightmares …_**

**_The three voyagers weave their way through the castle floors, facing two men and a woman in shady black trench coats …_**

**_A silver-haired young man and a mouse king force their way through the young man's troubled past, from three shadowy men in black to a witch crowned with horn, to a replica of the man himself, to a fallen king with silver hair, to a mysterious figure donned in red who holds the key to redemption…_**

**_Day after day, the red-haired young woman, with a brunette girl at her side, waits. Day after day they cling to the shores of the island, staring out across the ocean, waiting for something…or someone…_**

**_Within the keep of a great egg-shaped glass case with a base of flowers, a boy slumbers into a deep sleep of memories…_**

**_Along a dark road the silver-haired man and the mouse king meets the stranger in red, who walks on with his eyes set on the road to dawn…_**

**_On a sunny, uneventful day, something streaks across the sky. A shooting star. By this, the red-haired young woman knows the barriers have fallen…_**

_**And something was about to begin.**_

_Natsukashii iro ni mado ga somaru_

(The window was bathed in a nostalgic color)

**_Eyes close, the world of dreams…_**

**_A blond teenager sinks into the dreamscape and lands on a circle of stained glass. And behind him, five white monsters arise…_**

**_The smile of a teenage girl with wavy brunette hair and brown eyes. The smirk of the suave blond young man. The cheerful happy-go-lucky grin of the portly black-haired teenager. The sharp, piercing eyes of a middle-aged man. A tall lithe man in black…_**

**_A blind-folded silver-haired man wearing a black trenchcoat…_**

**_A wizard. A knight. A young brown-haired man clad in black. And in his hand is a huge silver key…_**

**_The sorrowful smile of a red-haired young woman. She is waiting, always waiting…_**

_Mae wo muitereba  
__Mata aemasu ka  
__Mirai wa ('I need more passion than you know') doko e demo tsudzuiteru 'n da  
__Ookina kanban no shita de  
__Jidai no ('I need more passion than you know') utsuroi wo mite ita ina_

(If I keep on looking forward  
Will I meet you again?  
The future continues anywhere.  
Underneath a large sign,  
I want to watch the time change.)

**_Two Wielders of the Keyblades. The Master and the Guardian. Every frontier they open up, every world they face, layers and layers of the forgotten peel away the closer they seem to get to the Door…_**

**_In the mists of the worlds caught between life and death, the Princess of Heart and her friends seek the key to the past, for the past answers the future…_**

_**The blindfolded one, the one seeking light in the darkness, fights for redemption of his past sins, gaining unknown powers along the path to salvation…**_

**_But times change. Under the gray skies of a lost world, two people briefly meet, unsure of each other and their feelings. They go on their separate ways, but the future shakes, and foresight becomes obscure…_**

**_Before the might of Hollow Bastion, a man returns to his past home, where a great shadow of a dragon and a firebird await to test his resolve. Every step he takes brings him closer to his home, and every battle won gives him a new strength and a new power…_**

**_A showdown awaits between the Master and the Society before the doors of the past and memories. He and his allies seek to stop the Society before they succeed in unleashing the unholiest evil upon the Universe…_**

_My heart's a battleground…_

'_I need more passion than you know…'_

_**Running, always running, against time, against the Darkness, against the Light, against all the obstacles…**_

_**A dance of flowers…**_

_**A waltz in flames…**_

_**Kingdom Hearts…**_

_**The Door In-Between…**_

_**A battle for memory…**_

_**A fight for the truth…**_

_**A door cast away by Oblivion… **_

_**A door locked by the light of the moon…**_

_**Sora.**_

_**Aozora.**_

_**Riku.**_

_**Kairi.**_

_**The Advocate.**_

**_Axel, whose mission is accomplished…_**

_**And all is left up to the showdown between Sora and the man from his forgotten past…**_

_Nido to aenu  
__Hito ni basho ni  
__Mado wo akeru_

(Towards the place with people and places  
I will never see again  
I open this window)

**_Time races against him as Aozora flees through the ring of fire. If he is but one second late, all will be lost…_**

**_Black boots. Slow, uneasy footsteps. Mic in hand, a graceful young woman walks across a makeshift stage and faces the people and cameras. Despite her trembling, her smile is as firm as her resolve of giving the ones who lost their homes and their lives to the growing Darkness hope …_**

_**She raises the mic to her lips…**_

_**Aozora stumbles out to the balcony…**_

_**The Heat Unlocker plunges forward…**_

_Omoidaseba haruka haruka  
__Mirai wa ('I need more passion than you know') doko made mo kagayaiteta  
__Kireina aozora no shita de  
__Bokura wa ('I need more passion than you know') itsumademo nemutte ita_

(When I remember far, far back  
The future was shining endlessly.  
Underneath a pretty blue sky,  
We slept endlessly)

**_Each crimson droplet from a shower of blood becomes little glowing pinpoints of light floating away into the dark sky…_**

**_Sora, his eyes wide, his face paling as the blood drained from his body gazes into the eyes of his murderer, his father…_**

**_The Heart Unlocker spins away, smearing the ground before it vanishes into nothingness…_**

_**Riku stares up at the sky, his blindfold torn away, while Ashita and Yuri watch in awe, shock, and horror at the images playing across Twilight Town's night sky…**_

**_Before her eyes, two white feathers fall as her connection to Sora is lost…_**

**_Yuna and the ghost of the past, Lenne, whispers words of lost love…_**

**_Brought together in the moments before death, the brothers exchange last words before Sora fades away into the glow of stars…_**

**_Her lonely heart is too broken to cry, for one is dead and the other has not returned. She is alone…_**

**_Tearing her gaze from the people down below, she turns her head to see, a broken Guardian, now burdened with the task of the Master, appearing…_**

**_In sanctuary, a love consummates at the brink of war, and the years pass…_**

_**Year after year after year…**_

_Aozora no shita de…_

Under the blue sky…

_**Rain. Endlessly pouring rain.**_

**_Darkness collected into a cloak shelters him from the downpour in the deep of the night. Strands of hair sways to the storm winds, obscuring his face…_**

**_A tall lithe girl, whose long red hair is bound back in a braid, turns with a slight smile. Her purplish blue eyes glimmer with life, then fade…_**

**_White feathers of a white wolf swirl in a maelstrom, and the wolf steps back into the night…_**

**_A hoodless person whose eyes are towards the sky as the rain comes down on his naked face…_**

_**Eyes.**_

_**Silver.**_

_**Gold.**_

_**Filled with vengeance.**_

_**It is begun.**_

""

A tall, blond man heavily decked in armor scrambled for his comms. link as others in the audience glared at him for the rude interruption at one of the many entrances scattered at uniform level and length throughout the blitzball stadium. When they saw the badge on his chest as he grimaced and frowned towards at them, however, they quickly turned away.

"What the fuck…" Ashita growled as he stepped out into the hall. "Commander speaking,"

"Commander sir, Leah9 reports. We're blocking off all streets in a three-mile radius. All airships are grounded and the ports are closed. We're closing down the gates right now. Anything else?"

"Leah9, send in squads of four at each of the entrances. Check the restrooms, the power room, everything except inside the stadium. We don't want a pandemonium here, understand? Have you alerted the local guards?"

There was no answer.

"Leah9!"

"Uh…sir, we've tried to contact them but they haven't answered. But…my men have been finding bodies lying throughout many of the hallways and the rooms. The camera room's destroyed so nothing's going to be recorded."

"Fucking shit…well, Leah9, I have to credit you with keeping a level head but start sending in your squads _now_. I've already alerted Storm and Wings. Have the Mages seen to Lester?"

"L182 has been taken back to headquarters. His foot's lost, unfortunately but—"

"The Mages will patch things up and I'll deal with him later. Right now, I want all of your men and women stationed at all entrances and exits. We'll handle the people. Understand?"

"Yessir Commander, sir. Leah9 out!"

Ashita sighed as he jammed the comms. link's buttons.

"Riku?"

"What's up?"

"We're fucked. This guy's moving like a virus. I'll meet you in the hall. I don't think the Lion's Guard can deal with this guy alone."

"I'll get the others."

"Don't tell Savvy or Wyvern yet, though. They may be the targets."

"Alright,"

Ashita sighed as he turned off the comms. link.

"Major fuck,"

He sure as hell didn't like some mass murderer wandering the halls of a jam-packed stadium full of important people.

"Fuck!"

**Author's Endnote:** I guess this is it until May. I bid you adieu for the next several weeks, and do warn others of my absence. I'd rather try and survive to write another chapter, if you know what I mean. 0.0 Thank you.


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